Bree's Pearls
by fanfictess
Summary: Bree finds herself tied to a psychiatric hospital bed and Lynette takes advantage of this opportunity to teach Bree a lesson. WARNING: Heavy BDSMkink themes in this story.


Bree Van deKamp stared at the ceiling, counting the number of holes in each tiled square. One hundred and three. It kept her mind off of the impending danger her daughter, Danielle, was possibly facing having run away with a murderer. She'd tried leaving the hospital and had been met with her psychiatrist's anger and a needle full of tranquilizers.

With a short cry, Bree tugged at her restraints, her wrists burned and her shoulders ached from the effort. It was useless, she was tethered to the bed until the doctor ordered her release and who knew when that would be.

The hundred and three holes in the ceiling tile began to blur as her vision clouded. After she'd abandoned Andrew on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, Bree had been so wracked with guilt and regret she hadn't been able to sleep. She'd snapped at Danielle's friends at her faux 17th birthday; and when Danielle had run away with Matthew, Bree knew she had to seek help before she fell completely apart. Admitting herself into the hospital for a long rest had seemed like a good plan at the time but now, with her daughter running around with a murderer while she was tied to a hospital bed, Bree felt she had made a dire mistake coming here.

The door opened a crack and someone from the maintenance crew shoved his way in, mop in hand. Bree quickly gathered herself together and shone a disarming smile his way. "Why, good afternoon Sir. How are you today?"

The janitor threw her an annoyed look and barked a one word answer. "Fine."

"Good. Umm. Could I bother you to possibly loosen these? They are incredibly tight and I don't think there's anything against loosening them. Would you mind?" Bree batted her lashes and turned her smile on. Her charm and personality was all she had left, she felt like her mind had left her ages ago.

"Look lady." He sneered as he stepped closer to her. "I'm not stupid. The second I loosen those restraints, you're going to scratch my eyes out. And frankly, I get a kick watching haughty bitches like you writhe in your own filth. If you know what I mean." He chuckled cruelly through his snarling and turned his back on her.

Bree bit her lip and tugged quietly at the restraints, feeling quite unsafe in his presence. Just as she felt her left wrist move slightly, a hand closed firmly around it and a familiar voice spoke firmly. "I'll take it from here….Mark. You can go." Bree looked up to see Lynette Scavo dressed in a lap coat with a nametag that read Dr. Martens.

"But I haven't finished the floor yet and I…"

"I need to have a confidential discussion with my patient Mark; I'll speak to your supervisor if there is a problem."

Mark shrugged, thrust his mop back in the bucket and grumbled under his breath as he left. A set of keys jangled as Lynette locked the door behind him and turned to face Bree with a smile on her face. "Oh Lynette, thank goodness! How did you find me?"

Lynette pulled a chair up to Bree and sat down, smoothing her hair away from her face. "Orson told me he'd seen you here. He saw you struggling with the orderlies yesterday and heard what you said about Danielle. I caught him on his way to Susan's and he told me what happened. Of course, I came as soon as I could but getting in here was a bit more difficult."

"How did yo-?"

"That's not important. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Well, as you can see I'm far from okay." Bree replied sharply, then her face softened. "I'm sorry Lynette, I'm terribly worried about Danielle. Would you undo these restraints please? I have to get out of here, she's in trouble. Matthew murdered Melanie Foster, not Caleb. I have to find them."

"I can't do that Bree."

Bree Van deKamp looked at her friend, the neighbour she'd known for over five years and felt fear at the cold resolve she saw in Lynette's gaze. "What are you talking about Lynette?"

"We have a few things to discuss first." The chair scrapped loudly on the floor as Lynette stood and began unbuttoning her lab coat. Shrugging out of it, she tossed it onto the chair and straightened her white suit, fingering the creases and standing before Bree with a sardonic smile. "Firstly, how do I look?"

"Lynette, what the hell are you doing? I have to get out of here. Danielle is with a _murderer_. She could be dead for all I know." Bree seethed with anger, fighting against her bindings and trying to sit up. All of a sudden her head snapped back and pain flared up the left side of her face, her mouth fell open as she gasped. "You slapped me!"

Lynette soothed her tingling palm against the cool fabric of her immaculate suit and tilted her head with a smile. "You didn't answer my question Bree. How do I look?" Her words punctuated with the click of her stilettos as she neared the hospital bed. Bree, still in shock from the slap, just stared at Lynette.

"You see, Bree, out of anyone I know you appreciate appearance. A first impression lasts a lifetime. And I know what you say about me behind my back. Your little jokes about the baby spit on my shoulder, the handprints on the back of my skirt, the dirt under my fingernails."

"Lynette, I don… "

"Shut up!" Lynette barked as she grabbed a briefcase Bree hadn't seen her bring in. "You know it's true. You look down on me for being real. That's all it is Bree. I'm _real._ You're repressed version of Martha Stewart perfection is not. It's inhuman and disturbing. You're not leaving here until you've felt what it really means to be real."

While Bree looked on in horror, Lynette opened the briefcase and removed a terrifying contraption. "Open your mouth."

"What? No. Lynette, what the hell is that? I don't talk about you behind your back. I don't look down on you! Lynette. Please."

"Open your mouth."

"I don't understand wha.." Lynette's hand snaked out and silenced Bree as it closed around her jaw tightly forcing it open. She thrust the metal gag into her mouth and opened it as wide as it would go.

"Do you know what this is Bree? Did you see this little toy during your research when Rex was begging you to dominate him? It's called a dental gag. I'm sure you can see why."

Shaking her head, Bree struggled to swallow the excessive amounts of saliva pooling in her mouth. Staring at Lynette with wide eyes, she tugged harder on her restraints and whimpered; imploring Lynette with her gaze to let her go.

"For years I've watched you Bree. With your perfect dinner parties, your expensive wine, your ever-present string of pearls. I've watched as your husband left you, cheated on you, began to resent you. While your children slowly began to hate you. It irks me that through all this drama and imperfection, you still judge me. For the way I raise my children, for the way I dress, for the way I run my household and handle my marriage. Who are you to judge, Bree Van deKamp? Your life is falling apart and look where you've ended up – admitting yourself into a psychiatric hospital."

While she spoke, Lynette was slowly unbuttoning Bree's sweater. Bree began to tremble, unable to anticipate her neighbour's next move. Coughing, she choked on the saliva pooling in her mouth and reddened with humiliation as spit sprayed out and landed on her cheek. Lynette looked down at her and laughed cruelly.

"Perfect Bree." She twisted a strand of crimson around one finger and yanked hard, chuckling as Bree yelped and her head tilted. "Pretty, perfect Bree." Leaning down, Lynette drew her tongue along the exposed pulse on Bree's throat and laughed as Bree jumped and began to fight against her bounds.

"Oh relax. I thought you were over your homophobic phase. What with Andrew being gay and all." Walking away, Lynette filled a glass from the tap in the bathroom and held it up over Bree's mouth. "Thirsty darling? Those dental gags dry out a person's mouth quickly." Tipping the glass, she dripped a bit of water into Bree's mouth. Swallowing quickly, Bree's eyes grew bigger. Suddenly water was filling her mouth and she gagged on it, trying to swallow the liquid as quickly as Lynette was pouring it down her throat. Coughing violently, Bree's eyes watered as she fought to breathe through the water drowning her.

Grabbing the nape of Bree's neck, Lynette raised her head and watched with amusement as she spat the water out, soaking her sweater and dripping down the sliver of flesh visible between the undone buttons. Bree shivered and felt her eyes water; she couldn't understand why Lynette was doing this to her – they'd been such good friends.

"You're drooling Bree. That's very unbecoming of a lady. In fact, it's pretty disgusting." Lynette ran a finger through Bree's drool, dragging her lip down unattractively and smearing her saliva across her cheek. Sneering, Lynette released her and watched Bree's head fall back down onto the pillow which she deftly snatched from her and placed on the nearby chair. "You don't deserve comfort my dear. You deserve the hell you put your family through with your high expectations and impossible standards. Just how perfect does someone have to be before you'll love them Bree?" Reaching forward, she tore the gag out of Bree's mouth.

"Jesus Christ Lynette!" Bree tongued the bloody cut at the corner of her mouth and tried to glare at her friend with dignity while she coughed and sputtered, trying to pull herself together once more. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Wrong with _me_? Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me Bree Van deKamp. You are the one with the problem. The dead husband, the disastrous children. My kids may be chaotic darling but at least they would never dream of fucking my boyfriend in revenge for being a bad mother."

Bree gave up glaring at Lynette, she felt like she'd been stabbed in the heart. Andrew and Peter's betrayal had been the last straw in her battle to maintain control over her son's life. He'd gone too far sleeping with her boyfriend, the sex addict. Lost in thought, it took Bree a moment to realize that the cold feeling against her skin was a switchblade.

"Lynette….please."

"Oh no Bree, no amount of begging is going to get you out of this. I have been waiting a long time to teach you this lesson. Now, I will ask you again – how do I look?" Lynette swept her arms out and turned once in front of Bree.

"Fine. Lynette, you look fine. What do you want from me?"

"I don't look _fine_ Bree. I look fucking beautiful. Tell me I look beautiful." She held the switchblade's point against the hollow in her friend's throat.

Swallowing, Bree could feel the cold steel and saw the determination in Lynette's eyes. She complied quietly. "You look beautiful Lynette."

The switchblade trailed down Bree's collarbone and sank into the shadow of her cleavage. "Thatta girl. From now on, you're going to listen when I talk. Aren't you Bree?"

"Yes."

Lynette grabbed the fabric of Bree's bra and nearly lifted her off the bed, slipping the switchblade under the strap and cutting through the middle with a _snap_. "Yes _Ma'am_."

Bree gasped as her bra was cut and quivered, licking at her dry mouth. "Yes. Yes, Ma'am." She was familiar with the sound of that, only she had been on the receiving end. It had made her very uncomfortable to hear Rex say those words and to see him kneeling naked, begging for her to spank him. Bree found it utterly humiliating and degrading, having been disgusted with him and herself for participating in such debasing activities in the bedroom.

"How could you have been so blind Bree? We've been so close all these years and yet, you never suspected that my feelings for you ran any deeper than dear friendship. Did you?" As she spoke, Lynette sliced through Bree's sweater and pulled the remnants out from underneath her. Cutting through her bra straps, she tossed them aside and gazed down at the naked torso of her dear, repressed friend.

"Do they?" Bree couldn't help keeping the surprise out of her voice. Lynette was married. She had four kids. There is no way this woman could think of Bree as anything more than a friend and neighbour and yet she was saying just that. "Lynette, you're _married_."

Lynette laughed and reached down to smooth her palm over Bree's cheek, sliding lower to curl her fingers around Bree's neck, placing enough pressure to feel her pulse. "Tom doesn't understand my needs. What I need…" Her grasp tightened and cut off Bree's air, watching as her eyes widened and she struggled with the lack of oxygen. "...is you Bree. Your repressed perfection appeals to my darker nature."

Twisting under Lynette's grasp, Bree kicked out to no avail, she felt herself growing dizzy with the lack of air and her eyes rolled in the back of her head. The moment the darkness came, Lynette released her and air rushed back into her lungs. Gasping and coughing, she cringed and curled up into herself. Her voice was hoarse as she fought to find it again; "What are you going to do to me?"

Lynette leaned down and drew a circle around Bree's breast with her tongue, flicking it at the nipple before nipping sharply at the soft flesh. Bree yelped in protest and tried to squirm away. "Fight all you want Mrs. Van deKamp, I like it better that way." Lynette growled against Bree's breast before she sank her teeth into the vulnerable skin and bore down hard.

Bree screamed and drew her knee up, hitting Lynette in the ribs; with a curse, Lynette hauled up and slapped Bree across the face once more. "Calm the fuck down bitch. I'm not going to permanently damage you and who knows, you might even enjoy yourself."

Whimpering, Bree tried to calm down. If nothing else, Lynette was her friend and had been her neighbour for years, she trusted that she wouldn't be hurt though she was a bit afraid of what was to come. "Yes….Ma'am."

"That's better. Now, if I remove these restraints, can I trust you to be a good little girl and do as I say?" Cocking an eyebrow, Lynette tugged at Bree's restrained wrists with a slow grin.

"Lynette, I'm afraid for Danielle. I can't stay here much longer."

Dropping the restraints, Lynette held up the dental gag with a threatening stare. "Do I need to put this back in Bree? From this moment on I don't want to hear another word about Danielle and Matthew. Understood?"

Bree looked from the gag to Lynette, deciding that she meant business. "I understand."

"Good." Swiftly, Lynette untied Bree and watched with satisfaction as she sat up, rubbing her wrists and wincing slightly. She was so untouchable in every day life and yet here, she was full of vulnerability and pain. It fueled the fire in Lynette and she ached to take her down, deeper into the darkest recesses of her mind. "Strip."

Bree's eyes grew wide and it seemed she just realized she was topless, her arms becoming a barrier in front of her naked breasts and she began to shake her head. Lynette grabbed a handful of fiery strands and hauled Bree to her feet. Holding her firmly with one hand, she flipped open the switchblade with the other and pressed it to the fluttering beat of Bree's jugular. "Now, cunt!"

No one had ever spoken to Bree thusly, ever. She felt anger flare in her and a deep seeded humiliation. Embarrassed at even hearing those words spoken, she felt her cheeks rouge and was angry at herself for being so transparent. She kicked off her running shoes and with fumbling fingers, undid her pants, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of both pants and underwear and pulling them down. Lynette's grip eased as Bree did as she was told and she dropped her hand to allow the movement.

Naked and shivering, Bree straightened and closed her eyes, taking a moment to regroup. A strange and unfamiliar feeling fluttered in the pit of her stomach as she stood bared in front of this woman. Slowly, her eyes opened and she presented herself with as much pride as she could muster. With a soft gasp, she felt the tip of the blade trail over her outer thigh, across her hip and make its way toward her navel. She held her breath, her eyes stilled in Lynette's ardent gaze, and she knew she was trembling; the distinction between fear and desire hard to pinpoint.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you darling Bree?" Bree shook her head. "Let go. Let yourself go and find the sort of release not even obsessive housework can give you."

She'd seen Rex do it a thousand times, although unlike those times it felt right to be the one sinking to her knees. Her head bowed as she reached out and brushed her fingertips against Lynette's ankle. "Why me Lynette?"

Lynette sank her fingers into Bree's hair and gently pulled her head back, purring softly. "Because pet, I've been dying to tousle that perfect hair of yours for years. You will look very pretty with a dirty face."

Lifting her foot, Lynette pierced her sharp stiletto heel into the soft flesh between Bree's breasts and shoved her back, feeling a deep satisfaction at the loud clang her body meeting with the bed's metal frame made. Bree grunted and cried out sharply at the pain between her shoulder blades. Her head remained bowed but light from the window caught on the ivory of her pearls, Lynette's resolve solidified at the sight of those sea birthed jewels.

"I'm going to hurt you Bree. And I'm going to enjoy it."

Bree looked up at her friend and was surprised to feel tears slowly making their way down her face. She deserved it, she'd been aching for someone to take a sledgehammer to her cold exterior; to shatter her to pieces and make her feel something – anything – again.

"Please do. Ma'am." She whispered softly as she tucked her hair behind her ear. Bree looked up at Lynette with sorrow filled eyes. "I need to be broken and put back together."

Reaching down, Lynette tilted Bree's face upwards and dipped hers closer. Then she dragged her tongue along the trail of Bree's tears and pressed a kiss to her ear. "Indeed you do little puppet, indeed you do." She curled her fingers around Bree's strand of pearls and violently tore them from her neck; the fine string snapped and pearls spewed everywhere. Scattering around the room and finding tiny crevices to snuggle into. "You can start by cleaning up this mess. On your hands and knees."

With a cruel smirk Lynette watched Bree's horror at the destruction of her jewelry. It satisfied her to the core to watch that lovely shade of red smooth itself along Bree's cheeks. To take that perfection Bree strove so hard to achieve and peel it away, layer by meticulously groomed layer.

"You can place the pearls in this glass here darling. Now, go on." Lynette eased into the chair she'd tossed her lap coat on and held the glass out with her left hand. Crossing her legs, she smiled as she watched Bree attempt to collect herself and go about the task.

Bree Van deKamp had never felt so humiliated. Here she was, naked and messy; tear stained and cold; kneeling on a psychiatric hospital floor being toyed with by one of her closest friends. With a quick glance at Lynette, Bree eased onto her hands and knees and began to crawl to the nearest pearl, gathering it into her palm and continuing on to the next.

It was a tedious and length process, that particular strand of pearls had been doubled and there were over a hundred pearls vomited out onto the linoleum floor. The glass was half full when Bree came back with another handful and Lynette's cool voice purred viciously down at her; "Now I want you to gather up the remaining pearls with your mouth pretty pet."

"But Lynette…!" Bree began to protest but swiftly shut her mouth at the look she received from the seated woman. "Yes, Ma'am."

As Bree licked and sucked the pearls up off of the floor, she couldn't help but imagine how much dirt she was gathering into her mouth; how many germs she was cleaning up off the floor and it made her gag. Closing her eyes, she tried to clear her mind and gave in to the tears that had been threatening to fall ever since she began this debasing task. They came furiously, flooding her face and dripping down onto the floor, it was all she could do to keep the sobs from dislodging the pearls she held in her mouth. As she rounded on the last few pearls, she felt Lynette's hand petting her. She leaned down for the last pearl then and just as it was scooped into her mouth, her cheek was pressed tightly against the floor and Lynette's shoe was crushing her windpipe.

"Stay."

When she tried to get up, Lynette's foot removed itself from Bree's neck and kicked her swiftly in the ribs; the force of it and surprise it caused her forced a few pearls from her mouth and their saliva covered brilliance shone on the dirty hospital floor. Whimpering, Bree settled where Lynette had placed her and rubbed at her bruised rib. Her teary gaze fixed itself on the runaway pearls and she shuddered, closing her eyes against her punishment were it to come.

"Spit them out." Lynette's hand was open and near Bree's mouth as she calmly demanded the pearls. Bree struggled for a moment, trying to figure out how she was going to spit the pearls into Lynette's hand with the woman's shoe still crushing her neck. Deciding not to think too hard, Bree closed her eyes and opened her mouth, her tongue shoving the pearls out onto Lynette's hand. A choked sob escaped as the last pearl left her mouth, humiliated to have saliva clinging to her cheek, chin and lips. She tried to hide her face under the veil of her hair but that was quickly ruined as Lynette yanked her up from the floor by it.

"Very good, girl." She dumped the wet pearls into the glass with the others. Holding Bree with one hand, Lynette shoved the other under her skirt and fumbled underneath it for a moment, awkwardly pulling her underwear down and stepping out of it. Scooping it up, she placed them on the hospital bed and Bree's view. "Now you will learn what pleases me most Bree."

Bree's eyes widened at the sight of Lynette's underwear and she was soon being pulled towards her spreading legs. "Oh god Lynette….no." Bree shook her head violently and began pulling away. "No, I can't. No no no."

"Yes. You can. And you will little bitch." Lynette reached inside her briefcase and pulled out a thick steel collar. Pulling Bree closer, Lynette snapped the collar around her neck and padlocked it shut with a satisfied smile. Attaching a leash to it, she yanked Bree's head into her lap and petted her hair sardonically. "Shh, pet. Relax."

Lynette dragged the chair over closer to her and put her heeled feet up on the arms, her legs falling open in front of Bree's stunned face. Inch by slow and torturous inch, she pulled Bree into the apex of her thighs. Bree straightened, trying to pull away but Lynette tangled her fist in Bree's hair and thrust her face into her cunt. Holding firmly on the leash, Lynette forced Bree's mouth against her wetness.

"That's my girl." Bree struggled against Lynette's grip, slapping at her captor's thighs and shaking her head trying to dislodge herself. Her lungs burned and felt like they were going to explode. All she could smell was cunt. All she could taste was cunt. She was being suffocated in it and soon she would pass out against it.

"Now now, Bree, you need to calm down a little and I'll let you go. But you have to promise not to run away. Can you promise that? If so, pat my leg like a nice little toy." Lynette waited and felt Bree's nails digging into her calf viciously, she hissed and reached down to kick at Bree's side. After a moment of struggle, Bree patted Lynette's calf and she was released. Sitting back, gasping for air, Bree glared up at Lynette; her mouth lipsticked with Lynette's slick desire.

Her eyes bore into Bree's as Lynette's fingers sank into her wet folds and began to stimulate her clit, with a slow grin she ground her hips into her own hand and sighed deliciously. "I realize that this is new territory for you, pretty pearl, so I'll help you out a little and show you just how I like it."

Leaning back with the leash caught between her palm and the hospital bed, Lynette rested a sharp heel against Bree's collarbone and watched as it made a red dent in the smooth creamy flesh. Lynette's fingers strummed against her clit and dipping in and out of her dripping cunt; her head fell back as she moaned and writhed against her own touch. It didn't take her long before she was wrapping her leg around Bree's head and pulled her back into that space between her thighs. With a deep shudder and a low, guttural moan, Lynette came with Bree's face suffocating in the quivering folds of her sex.

With a satisfied groan, she released Bree and leaned back on the bed, taking a moment to gather herself. Her heels clacked on the floor as she stood and straightened her skirt and ran fingers through her hair. Swiftly, she scooped her underwear off the bed and thrust them into a surprised Bree's mouth. Chuckling, she pulled Bree to her feet by her hair and grabbed her wrists just as she heard a knock on the door.

"Here's our ride, pet." Bree looked over with wide eyes to see Tom's grinning face at the door's small window. Lynette unlocked the door and let him in while Bree crumpled onto the bed and attempted to pull the sheets up around her naked body, feeling vaguely aware of her mussed hair and cunt stained face.

"Hello Bree. Don't you look ravishing?" Tom grinned and leaned over to kiss Lynette firmly on the mouth in a nearly possessive manner. Bree groaned with embarrassment and hid her face in the mattress.

"The car's parked near the front door honey, I'll distract whoever looks like they want to stop us while you take Bree out and get her into the car. I'll meet you outside once the questions have stopped being asked."

"Thanks babe, you're the man." Lynette grinned as she stroked Tom's rough cheek and nibbled lightly on his lip. "See you out there."

Tom slipped out of the room, straightening his Volunteer pin against his lapel as Lynette tossed Bree's clothes onto the bed and ordered her to get dressed. With the panties still shoved in her mouth and tears running down her face, Bree dressed, wondering just how long Tom had stood there watching her as she was humiliated by his wife. When she was finished, Lynette removed the collar leash, keeping the collar in place as Bree's sweater covered the more conspicuous areas of the bondage instrument.

Lynette slipped back into her lap coat and brushed off her Dr. Martens tag as if it were dirty then grabbing hold of Bree's hand, Lynette tore her underwear from her friend's mouth and hissed; "Don't say a word. I'm going to get you out of here but that doesn't mean I'm finished with you yet puppet." Bree nodded, chewing on her bottom lip as Lynette dragged her out of the room and nodded to Tom.

"Walk normally." Lynette hissed as they neared the front doors, Tom heading off a nearby orderly to ask him where volunteers were supposed to sign in. As the orderly led Tom to the front desk, Lynette nodded to the security to open the doors for her and they were out.

Bree was stunned to see it was pitch black outside. Lynette popped her trunk open, shoved her panties back into Bree's mouth and pointed into the dark box with an evil chuckle. "Get in."

Shaking her head violently, Bree began backing away. Lynette grabbed her by the nape of her neck and slid her finger under the collar, pulling Bree's face close to hers. "If you want to get out of here and help your daughter, you will do what I say and get in the trunk. Right. Now."

With a muffled sob, Bree crawled into the trunk and looked up at Lynette with dark eyes. Lynette reached down and stroked Bree's cheek as Tom stepped up beside his wife and smiled down at their victim. "We'll continue this at home, pet." And then the trunk slammed shut.

"The kids won't hear anything if you're in the garage, honey." Tom helpfully suggested as he drove their family vehicle back towards Wisteria Lane; "I'll drive Sandra home as soon as we get in; she's some random teenaged babysitter I got from this guy at work. I figured Mrs. McClusky would be far too nosey."

Lynette reached over and rested her hand on the back of his neck, idly massaging him as she smiled; "You've taken care of everything darling, thank you. The garage will be perfect. You get Bree in there, I'll pay Sandra." Tom beamed at his wife.

They parked backwards in their driveway and Lynette jumped out to pay the babysitter as Tom walked around to pop the trunk, pushing the garage door opener at the same time. Bree's eyes narrowed as the streetlights blinded her; before she could protest or fight, Tom grabbed her by the arms and hauled bodily out of the trunk.

Bree's yelping cry was muffled by the underwear still shoved in her mouth; she was slightly ashamed she hadn't had the courage to rip it out while she was in the trunk. Wary of Lynette's mood, she'd assumed it would displease the woman to find Bree in the trunk with the underwear bunched her in hand.

Tom stopped the garage door at the halfway point to keep it from triggering the light inside, then he shoved Bree under it and pushed her slightly. She stumbled into the middle of the concrete floor and turned to face him, shaking her head and whimpering loudly.

"Shhh. Stay there, Lynette will be right back." Then he pushed the button and she was devoured into the darkness.

A few moments later, Bree heard the car leave the driveway and the side door to the garage opened. Bree's eyes closed quickly in shock as Lynette snapped on the glaring garage light. "Hello precious. Have a good ride?" Bree shook her head emphatically; "Well, isn't that a shame." Lynette's tone mocked Bree's pain and the redhead cast her eyes to the cement.

Lynette's heels clacked ominously on the floor as she neared Bree, trailing her fingers along Bree's arm she smiled disarmingly; a smile Bree had perfected as a tool of manipulation when dealing with Rex. But she wasn't dealing with Rex and she was in no position to manipulate Lynette, of that she was well aware.

Reaching above her, Lynette curled her finger in a link of metal and pulled lazily. To Bree's horror, a length of chain with a pair of leather cuffs on the end connected to the exposed beams in the ceiling swung violently into place just above her head. Lynette wandered over to a hanging cork board full of Tom's tools, pressing a latch on the side of it; she pulled it open to reveal an array of torturous implements.

Bree's emerald eyes lingered the longest on the slick black whip centered between a handful of floggers and some evil looking metal paddles. She felt in a moment both afraid and titillated. She wondered what it would feel like to be whipped; to be made to bleed. Standing there, watching Lynette, Bree felt alive; she savored the unfamiliar feeling.

"Now that you know where we stand, precious, I would like to remove your clothing." Lynette snatched a crop off the wall and smacked it against her palm, gazing lustily at Bree with a slow snaked smile crossing her face.

With trembling fingers, Bree undid the buttons on her sweater, folding it she looked around for somewhere to place it and when she couldn't find anywhere suitable, she gingerly laid it on the floor next to her. Slipping out of her shoes, she pushed down her pants next and was annoyed to feel the heated flush of her shame paint red against her cheeks. Finally she stood, Lynette's underwear still in her mouth, hers lying perfectly folded on top of her pile of clothing. Meeting Lynette's gaze, she touched the fabric in her mouth lightly with her fingers and asked a silent question.

"Yes, you may remove those and come over here to hand them to me, puppet." Slowly, Bree pulled the underwear from her mouth and coughed softly. The fabric had soaked up all the moisture and she was left with sandpapered tongue and fuzzy sweatered teeth. Licking at her mouth, she moaned softly and padded over to Lynette, underwear in hand.

"Here you are, Ma'am." Her voice sounded strange to her ears, soft and compliant. Quiet and a bit shy as she offered Lynette the underwear and cast her gaze to the ground.

Lynette made to grasp the underwear, but instead of taking it, she grabbed Bree's wrist and yanked her close; pulling that supple naked body against her clothed one and tangling a hand in Bree's hair. The crop held firmly in her hand, she smacked Bree's hip once startling the girl, then she yanked her head back and pressed the crop to her friend's mouth. "Hold this, pet and don't you dare drop it."

Bree obediently opened her mouth and took the crop, holding it daintily between her teeth. Lynette smiled down at her and stroked her cheek, her fingers dancing along Bree's neck, swirling across her collarbone and delighting against her nipple. Her back forced into an arch, Bree shuddered and a soft moan of protest passed her lips. At that, Lynette laughed and cruelly grasped Bree's nipple, twisting it painfully with a snarl and reveling in it as Bree gasped and the crop dropped to the floor.

Arching her brow, Lynette looked from Bree's terrified expression to the crop lying in the dust on the garage floor. Shaking her head slowly, she bent down forcing Bree to come with her as she still held her by the hair; and picked up the crop. "I told you not to drop it, slut." The words hissed into Bree's ear as Lynette straightened them both.

"One simple task and you've already failed it." Bree's blood ran cold as the words reached her core. Lynette grasped Bree's wrist and pulled her closer to the wall where she reached out and grabbed a manacle attached to the floor. The chain was short and forced Bree to double over, which amused Lynette as she attached the other wrist as well. "Lovely."

"Lynette…? I…" Bree bit her lip and stared at the wall, she couldn't see Lynette behind her anymore and she was horrified at being bent over like this.

"Oh I'm not finished yet, pretty Bree." Lynette chuckled and kicked Bree's ankles; with a hiss at the pain, Bree spread them wider before she realized Lynette's plan. Crouching behind her, Lynette snapped Bree's ankles into another set of cuffs attached to the floor, forcing her legs far apart.

Bree whimpered, utterly humiliated at being splayed open like this; on display for Lynette and anyone who could happen to walk into the garage. Her thoughts veered towards Tom and she wondered, again, just how long he had stood outside that hospital room door watching her debasement. Closing her eyes, Bree fought for balance; she was too far from the wall to lean against it and yet too close to get down on her hands and knees.

Lynette looked at her masterpiece and smiled wickedly, the curve of Bree's ass and smooth skin of her thighs begged to be marked and the width of her spread legs gave way to a lush view of her wanton sex. Crop in hand, Lynette pressed her palm against Bree's cunt, squeezing lightly, and marveled at the way Bree yelped and squirmed, trying to escape her touch. Lynette growled softly and thrust one finger deeply into Bree, throwing her off balance and making her fall forward with her cheek against the wall.

"Do you like to get dirty Bree?" Lynette purred in her victim's ear as she twisted her hand in Bree's hair and finger fucked her hungry cunt. "I'm going to go with a no. You're always so polished and gleaming with that Martha Stewart perfection. It gets tired Bree. Don't you ever get tired? Of taking your shirt off every time a speck of dirt lands on it? Don't your fingers ever get sore from scrubbing at the stains in your rug? Don't you ever just want to go to bed with your makeup on and forget about the wrinkle cream?"

Bree's chest heaved and her jaw ached where it was pressed firmly against the wall, her scalp throbbed from Lynette's grasp and her lower back protested against being bent at such an angle. She was uncomfortable, she was mortified and she felt violated; and yet when Lynette's fingers began to withdraw from her cunt, Bree whimpered and shoved backwards, forcing them back in.

"Ah… maybe you do like it dirty, little whore." Lynette smirked as the girl thrust her hips in time with Lynette's finger fucking. It amused her to watch Bree release herself in such a manner, ardently asking for more.

Lynette's fingers thrust hard and deep, driving Bree's face against the wall of the garage as the chains rattled in protest. Bree gasped and fucked back, losing herself in the moment, closing her eyes and imagining she was someone else, someone who was capable of enjoying this torture, someone who didn't have so many expectations to live up to; someone's whore. Her cunt dripped around Lynette's fingers and contracted with pleasure, though it shamed her, she couldn't help her body's reactions.

Just as she felt the edge nearing and the black abyss within her grasp, Lynette's fingers pulled out violently and the palm of her hand landed with a loud smack against Bree's ass. Yelping, Bree pushed back from the wall and was brutally thrust back into it; she saw stars as her head cracked against the wall and her knees gave way but Lynette's hand in her hair kept her on her feet. Again and again Lynette's palm collided with Bree's ass, the pain spreading like wildfire along her flesh – a fiery torment, prickly and unwelcome, yet strangely desirous.

As Bree's ass coloured to a fine scarlet, Lynette stepped back and began to use the crop. Deft strikes across the back of Bree's thighs and along her ass cheeks, leaving a scattered pattern of welts and bruises in its wake. Lynette watched with a growing satisfaction as Bree's shoulders began to shake and her entire body began to shudder, an emotional earthquake. Lynette stopped only as she heard the keening wail of Bree's first sob; she released the girl and watched as she sank to her knees and then curled up into a tiny ball.

Bree sobbed for what felt like hours; it wasn't the pain of the crop or her neighbour's hand that had caused her tears, but the emotional release she felt with each strike upon her pale flesh. Her burning skin bringing a physical pain to mirror the emotional scarring she had endured over the last couple of years.

It barely registered that Lynette was removing the manacles until her friend had knelt next to her and tenderly kissed her brow. Bree shook her head and grasped Lynette's thigh with taloned nails, desperately; "No, please." Her sobs became heavy and she leaned against Lynette, whispering hoarsely through her tears, "Give me more."

Taken aback, Lynette was amazed at the effect those three words had on her. The moment Bree had asked for more, she'd felt a warmth flood her belly and settle between her thighs, driving her onward. With another kiss bestowed on against Bree's hair, Lynette hauled her to her feet and led her to the middle of the room.

Bree looked almost thankful to see the cuffs dangling above her and she raised her arms as Lynette bound her in leather. Standing in front of the chained girl, Lynette appraised her appreciatively; she was a delicious woman and the welts forming on her skin only enhanced her beauty. She ran her fingers through Bree's fiery tresses and tugged slightly.

"You should leave your hair down more often, pet. I prefer it this way." Lynette smiled and moved towards the wall of toys as Bree blushed and murmured her assent. The whip found its way into Lynette's grasp and she placed herself behind Bree. "I saw you eyeing this earlier, darling; I thought it was too soon for you to feel what it can deliver but seeing as you asked…" Lynette smiled and cracked the whip loudly next to Bree's ear.

Bree hadn't been prepared for the intensity of the whip's force; it moved the air against her cheek as it whizzed by her face and cracked over her right shoulder. Yelping and slamming her eyes shut, she whimpered and rocked slightly in her chains. Hanging her head, she waited for the dance to begin.

Lynette brought her arm up and then straight down, the whip soared through the air barely missing the ceiling rafters, it doubled over itself and snaked outwards, licking viciously at Bree's left shoulder and leaving a dark red line down her back. Bree's head snapped back and she gasped loudly, her desire to scream betrayed by her lack of voice. Lynette barely gave her the time to register the pain before snapping the whip back and letting it coil out once more. As the whip slashed a criss to the first cross, Bree opened her mouth and screamed.

A triumphant crimson X marked Bree Van deKamp's back as she hung limply in the middle of Lynette's garage, swaying slightly within her bonds. Bree was vaguely aware of Tom's car returning and him walking in through the side door. She scarcely understood their words as Lynette told Tom to help her take Bree down and barely felt Tom's arms as he laid her on a blanket on the floor. In her mind, Bree was floating, away from the pain of reality and onto a cloud of physical pain; her entire body ached and throbbed with intensity.

Lynette sank down next to Bree and placed her friend's head in her lap, stroking Bree's hair she leaned down and murmured softly in her ear; "This was hard, pet, but you needed it." Bree purred softly in reply and closed her eyes, sinking down into the feeling of surrender.

The following week, Bree stopped by Lynette's to drop off a loaf of banana bread she had made that morning; they had an innocent cup of tea and lovely gossip about the neighbours. Lynette didn't say a word about what had happened in the hospital or her garage and Bree tried very hard not to blush too deeply when her neighbour's fingers brushed against hers while reaching for the sugar bowl. When they parted they made sure to be all Stepford Wife proper and said their farewells with a chaste kiss to the cheek.

Lynette watched Bree saunter across the street and appreciated the curve of her hips in that narrow, well below the knee pencil skirt. She drank in the way Bree's hair caught the light and danced with it now that she had told the girl to wear it down more often. And just as she was admiring the dainty way Bree picked up a fallen garbage can lid and righted it, she remembered she had something for her.

"Bree! Wait a minute!" Disappearing back into the house, Lynette emerged again to Bree walking back towards her. They met in the middle of the road and Lynette handed her a long velvet box. With a questioning look, Bree took the gift and arched a brow.

With a tender smile, Lynette opened the box and withdrew a double stranded pearl necklace; the very same one that she had snapped from Bree's neck so many days ago. As Bree's eyes grew in surprise and pleasure, Lynette moved to place it around her neck. In the middle of the road on Wisteria Lane, Lynette Scavo locked the pearl necklace around Bree Van deKamp's neck.

Aware that anyone's eyes could be on them, Bree's cheeks flushed at the memories those pearls brought forth. The pain, humiliation and surrender she had suffered, endured and finally given to Lynette. Turning to face her friend, Bree looked up and found she was at a loss for words.

Leaning forward to whisper in Bree's ear, Lynette purred softly; "I counted those pearls, pretty pet, and you did very well. Not a one is missing." With those words spoken and the soft kiss Lynette bestowed on Bree's ear, Bree felt her pride swell.

She'd done very well.


End file.
